


Where You and I Begin

by momentsinlove



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Champions League, FC Barcelona, Fluff, Football, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3124247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentsinlove/pseuds/momentsinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tells the story of how Andres first met Pep, the beginning of his career at Barcelona, and Pep's return and reign as manager of the incredible winning team, especially during their Champions League run in 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where You and I Begin

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for Cornerflag @ Livejournal for issue 5, under the theme 'managers'. I may end up posting another part to this to detail the years from 2010-2012 but who knows with me. Longer notes at the end of the fic.
> 
> I tweaked my fic a bit as I realized there were plenty of mistakes, especially with the years and things not adding up. So yeah hopefully it is much better now. Still probably have plenty of mistakes ;)
> 
> I do not own these characters nor do I profit from it. I completely made this up and am in no way saying this is true. Thank you for reading!

[ ](http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll239/hoppipolla7/barca/?action=view&current=andrespepppp032-1.jpg)   


 

+++

 

Andrés remembers the first time he actually met Pep. He was fourteen and it was the Nike tournament, where Andrés dazzles the world, including Pep himself. He didn't think this kid, tiny with skin too pale that somehow manages to secure the win for Barcelona. When Iniesta reaches his hand out and touches Pep's, he instantly wants to curl up and die, but he smiles shyly while the other man holds his gaze, smiling. Andrés will always remember the words that followed him into his adult career and thinks that maybe Pep knew before anyone else that he'd be something special. And maybe Pep is right. 

_"In a few years' time, I'll be watching you do the same from the stands."_

+++

Pep is gone before Andrés makes it to the first team, not by much but Andrés doesn't blame the man, with everything that has happened between Figo and Cruyff he can understand why Pep would want to leave. He's disappointed but he's only sixteen and he thinks maybe he will get the chance to play with him again. He remembers his first day of training, how mortified and excited he was and when he gets lost, how he wants the world to swallow him as he stares back at Luis Enrique's face, which is a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Luis who literally drags him by his arm and sits him next to Xavi saying, "You, watch him." and Andrés wonders if there is ever anything more embarrassing, having someone keep track of you. He knows it isn't meant to be insulting, but perhaps to guide him and he knows Xavi won't let him fall. For that, he's forever grateful. He smiled up at the sun casting down on them, wondering if one day he'd still be here or if he'd get swallowed up by the football world. He dreams that one day, he'd still be here with Xavi still by his side. 

+++

_He doesn't know when Pep had told Xavi, but Andrés remembers when Xavi tells him, "Pep told me once, "You will retire me. This lad is going to retire us all. He was talking about you." Andrés remembers his face going red, just grinning, "Really?" "Really. You know Pep is fond of you, he thinks you are one of the best in the world."_

_He takes Pep's words with him, whenever he steps on the pitch. He only ever wanted to make him and the world proud._

+++

  
The first time Andrés steps out onto the pitch he feels the nerves inside of him. He hasn’t felt this way for years. He feels sick to his stomach and he closes his eyes, willing himself to focus. He looks at Xavi who nods and he nods back, lifting his head up.   
  
Later he feels his phone going off and he pulls himself away from the team, heading outside to answer it. He doesn’t look but automatically puts it to his ear.  
  
“Hello.”  
  
“You were great. I just wanted to you to know that.”  
  
Andrés knows who it is automatically and he smiles and suddenly feels like he’s in the dressing room for the first time and realizing he was going to actually train with his idol. He shakes his head at himself and realizes Pep is on the other line.   
  
“Thanks, I uh. I hope I did good, I was too nervous to think about it really,” Andrés confesses. He knows he could have done better and he had to will himself to focus at times but he still feels like he could do anything at this point; he feels alive.   
  
“If that’s you playing under nerves, then I need to have a word with Xavi,” Pep jokes and Andrés blushes and feels stupid because it’s not as if Pep can see him. Still he’s never one to take compliments and Pep is no different. Especially Pep.  
  
They chatted about a few other things before Pep told him he needed to go. Andrés blushed when Pep congratulated again and he hung up, wondering how Pep got his number (he would later learn the Pere had given it to Pep) but feeling elated and he couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he went back to face his teammates. 

+++

It was a couple of weeks later when Andrés found his things from La Masia that he had never unpacked. Posters and miscellaneous items and on the bottom was a framed autograph that read, “ _the best player I’ve ever seen_ ,” and he smiled at it and placed it in a drawer, hidden from everyone else’s view but Andrés knew it would be there as a silent reminder of those who guided him.   
  
A few days later the dressing room was a buzz of activity. Everyone was talking and it didn’t take long for Andrés to hear that Pep was back. He of course kept the smile off of his face but inside he knew he would react like a child still, giddy and shy and he wondered if Pep would even say anything more than a hello. Pere of course had mentioned nothing about Pep coming back and Andrés wondered if he even knew.   
  
After the game, Andrés showers and gathers his things and he’s one of the last ones out, fighting the urge to scroll through the numbers in his phone till he found Pep’s. He feels a bit stupid thinking about it and when he leaves, he almost doesn’t see the figure half hidden by the shadows until the voice startles him.   
  
“Come to dinner with me,” and Andrés blushes as he turns to see Pep grinning at him. He keeps his gaze this time as he’s pulled into a hug and he feels a bit stupid as he nearly clutches to Pep but it’s Pep who doesn’t let him go.   
  
“Many years ago I saw a boy that read the game better than me and I still see him today,” he whispers and Andrés starts to protest but he thinks better of it, fighting off the urge to say he’s only one of many on the pitch, it’s only because of the team, and he takes it, letting Pep ruffle his hair and to sling an arm around his shoulders.   
  
Pep takes Andrés to a very simple place and they dine. Andrés begins to lose the nerves as the evening wears on. He still sees Pep but not with the same fear of embarrassing himself as before. Pep makes him lose all of that and he doesn’t see Pep as anyone other than a friend. He makes Andrés feel at ease by just being himself. He listens to Andrés talk about things other than football and when there is silence, it is not awkward but comfortable. Though it does not last for long as Pep is always thinking of something to say and the conversation start back up again.   
  
Pep pays for the bill, not even letting Andrés see it or pay for his own and Andrés blushes and rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. They drive in silence back to the Camp Nou where Andrés’ car is. Before Andrés can get out, Pep pull him into an awkward half hug and there are suddenly lips pressed against the corner of his mouth and Andrés jerks back as if he’s touched fire and when he can finally look up at Pep, there is the expression of regret and a hint of nervousness. Andrés starts to speak but he can’t find the words and Pep seems to understand what Andrés wants. His hand curls around Andrés’ jaw and Andrés leans into, not sure what he’s doing but he knows he wants it. Pep’s lips press against his briefly, before they are gone and Andrés panics as he searches Pep’s face. He is fumbling to get out of the car and Pep doesn’t try to stop him. He walks to his car, his head up and he doesn’t know what just happened.   
  
They see each other once more before Pep leaves. It’s brief and it’s in the lounge after training and there is a brief hug and that’s it. That’s their goodbye and nothing is said about that night, even if Andrés has a million questions to ask. He doesn’t and Pep doesn’t press him and they once again leave without finding closure.   


 

+++

  
It’s another year before Andrés sees Pep again. He stays in contact with Pere and he learned of what Pep is doing but the few occasions Pep has been in town, Andrés was either on an away game or unable to meet Pep. He tried and he would open his phone and close it a few times before giving up.   
  
He wasn’t surprised when his phone rang and it was Pep’s number flashing. He was exiting the dressing as his phone vibrated in his hand and he gave his teammates a wave in goodbye as he pressed his phone to his ear.  
  
“Come meet me,” and Pep is giving him an address before he can give his greetings and he’s mentally trying to remember it and then the line is dead and Andrés is staring at the phone. He wonders if he should go but then he rolls his eyes at himself. He’s waited a year to see Pep and now he’s considering backing out.   
  
He finds the place all right and parks his car down the street. It’s not a bad neighborhood of course, but it’s relatively quiet and there aren’t many people out so the chances of Andrés being recognized are slim. He knocks on the apartment door and waits till he can hear footsteps and Pep is there, smiling down at him as he opens the door wider for Andrés to come in.   
  
“I didn’t know you had this place,” Andrés remarked. It was well furnished and had been used before today, quite often, and he wondered how many times Pep had been here.   
  
“You never asked,” Pep replied, without a trace of anger or malice, just simply stating a fact and Andrés stepped forward, for what reason, he didn’t do but Pep’s mouth claimed his first. Andrés should have expected this. All of it, not just the kiss, but the fact Pep lead him here. He wonders if there is anyone else and he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to block that out. Pep notices of course, and he pulls back, his fingers stroking over Andrés’ cheek.   
  
“If you don’t want this, tell me now.”  
  
“It’s not that it’s just. How many others…” he trails off because Pep is shaking his head and smiling at him, his other hand coming up to cup Andrés’ face to hold it there as he looks Andrés in the eye.   
  
“No one,” and Andrés knows Pep is telling the truth. He makes the first move this time, pressing his lips to Pep’s and he’s not surprised when his own mouth falls forward to allow Pep’s tongue in and he clings to Pep. Pep’s hands are running up and down his back, comforting and Andrés can’t help but lean into them, his mouth slipping a bit and his lips slide to Pep’s jaw, the stubble stinging but not entirely unwelcome.   
  
Pep’s hands dip under the thick sweater Andrés has on, loosening the t-shirt that’s underneath it and pulling it out from where it was tucked in. Andrés feels the heat on his face and whether it’s from the clothes or from the fact Pep is slowly tracing the skin below his navel, Andrés doesn’t know. He arches into the touch and Pep is pushing his shirts up and off, letting them drop to a pile. Pep takes his time discovering the newly exposed skin. Andrés fights the urge to cross his arms but he’s back into a wall and Pep is pressing his arms against it. Pep let’s his tongue explore every inch of Andrés’ chest as he moves his way down. Andrés tenses and Pep pulls his lips back and looks up at Andrés.   
  
“Just. Take it slow. I’m, I’ve. I just want to remember it, that’s all.” It’s not a lie of course, he does want to remember it but it’s more than that. Pep nods, and Andrés knows he understands. He moves back up, removing his own shirt and pulling Andrés’ hands off the wall and placing them on his own chest and Andrés gets the hint. It’s his turn to explore and it makes him feel more at ease. He learns Pep in an entirely knew way, with every movement of his mouth, he learns what Pep wants and doesn’t. He captures Pep’s lips in a searing kiss and he finds there is not an inch of space between them (something that terrifies him and arouses him in equal measures.)  
  
Pep pulls their lips apart, just for a brief moment to whisper, “come to bed with me,” and Andrés nods, gripping Pep’s hips.   
  
It’s not perfect. They stumble as Andrés tries to pull his pants off and Pep is there, steadying him, his mouth stealing a quick kiss. It’s when they are both naked that Andrés finds he doesn’t know if he can do this. It’s Pep and it’s Pep naked in front of him (Pep who is hard for him) and he closes his eyes but Pep is there, reassuring him with his mouth and hands, reminding him he does want this and that he’s free to leave at anytime.   
  
Pep leads him to the bed where he shows Andrés things he never imagined would be happening. He does things with his mouth that leaves Andrés incapable of responding to. Pep doesn’t let him try and respond or do anything else. Pep gently guides him to where he wants Andrés and he soothes away any worry or fear Andrés might have with his mouth and Andrés lets him because he trusts him above all.   
  
When it’s over, Andrés doesn’t feel shame. He did something he enjoyed and with someone he wanted it with. Even if that person is Pep. He’s still laying flat on his stomach, head turned so he can blearily see Pep looking down at him with a small smile curving and his eyes are seeking out Andrés’. His hand strokes over Andrés’ back in slow and gentle strokes, almost in a reassuring manner.   
  
“Do you regret it?” Pep asks, his voice low and quiet and for the first it’s he who can’t meet Andrés’ eyes. Andrés rises, pulling the sheet around his waist as he is eye level with Pep.   
  
“Do you?” Pep shakes his head and then it’s time for Andrés to smile and he lets his hands cup Pep’s face, “then what do I have to regret?”   
  
Pep leans in for a brief kiss, just lips and nothing more and Pep is sliding out of the bed, tugging Andrés along and they get clean before Pep is pulling Andrés’ clothes back on him, his hands still sneaking little touches and they tickle Andrés as he laughs against Pep’s neck and it’s comfortable despite everything. It didn’t ruin anything, only made them closer and Andrés smiles and he’s happy. Truly and really happy as Pep walks him to the door and presses a finger against Andrés lips and it’s an unspoken promise.   


 

+++

  
It’s a friendship above all else. Sex is something that happens but when it doesn’t, nothing is lost or changed. Perhaps that is what makes it all the more special to them, is how few and far between it has happened. Almost as if the intensity builds before it overflows.   
  
Andrés is older now, no longer a boy but a man (still shy but that will never change) and it’s something Pep can see. It wasn’t as if he wanted Andrés to stay the shy and quiet boy he always was. He admires the way he controls the midfield alongside Xavi and the way his passes are crisp and perfect. He’s a leader of team, even if it’s unspoken and he doesn’t wear an armband.   
  
Pep watches the team as often as he can. Conflicting schedules make it hard enough for them to see each other and sometimes even harder to catch a game when both are on opposites sides of the world for games. He watches a team he saw grow before him integrate with newly bought players and something inside of Pep twinges but it’s pushed away. He will always be a  _cule_  no matter what happens. Barcelona will be his team.   
  
Andrés asked him once, “when are you coming back?” Pep never knew if Andrés meant to play or if he simply meant back home, where he belongs, and Pep shrugged and answered, “Barcelona will bring me back when the city is ready” and the answer satisfied Andrés who nodded and Pep wondered if Andrés knew back then what would happen (he didn’t, neither of them were going to be prepared for the future.)  


 

+++

  
“I’m retiring.”  
  
Andrés blinks and starts to open his mouth but doesn’t. Simply wraps his arms around Pep’s neck and Pep’s hands rest on his waist. They stay like that even if there is a couch behind them that is more suitable for this type of thing.   
  
“What are you going to do now?”  
  
“Relax,” Pep laughs into Andrés’ ear and he gets a soft slap to the back of the head for it. He presses his lips against Andrés’ neck and inhales.   
  
“I’m going to miss playing football but I can assure you I will always be a part of it. Do not think for a second I will leave this behind.”  
  
Andrés pulls back and he nods and it’s as if a promise is formed between them, something Pep will ultimately keep.   


 

+++

  
When it is announced, a few eyebrows are raised. Andrés isn’t one of them however. Perhaps it is a bit sooner then he expected but he knew that at some point, Pep would be a part of this team. It is strangely fitting that he is coach of the youth team as he helped along so many players that rose up from there when he was captain.   
  
Andrés decides to pay Pep a visit during one of the youth teams home matches. Training is done earlier then expected and Andres needs to take his mind off of the current situation the team is finding themselves in. He pays for his ticket like everyone else and he doesn’t mind the stares he gets. He signs a few autographs and poses for photos before he politely excuses himself and makes his way to his seat. It’s not too close to have anyone on the touchline notice him but a few people around him start to whisper. Fortunately for him he manages to watch the match without too much interruption.   
  
He heads down towards the dressing room once the game is finished and he waits outside. The players come wandering out, some of them in complete awe as they ask for a handshake. Andrés praises them all and they grin and run after their waiting teammates and Andrés wondered when it was he who become an idol, a role model and it feels strange.   
  
Pep is the last one to leave, not unsurprisingly, and he seems genuinely shocked that Andrés is there. He hadn’t told Pep he was coming but he had mentioned a few times that he wouldn’t mind seeing a match or two.   
  
“Andrés this is a pleasant surprise.”  
  
“I told you I would come didn’t I?”  
  
Pep laughs lightly and gestures for Andrés to walk with him towards the now deserted parking lot. Andrés car is parked in the front and Pep offers him a ride there instead of walking and of course Andrés accepts. It is when they’ve arrive and Pep puts the car in park and turns toward Andrés. Their conversation has successfully avoided any talk of football but it is Pep who is looking at Andrés with concern and Andrés knows that he cannot hide it.   
  
“Andrés, you look worn.”  
  
“It has been a tough season, nothing more.”  
  
Pep knows it’s not the whole truth. It is part of it but there is far more to it then that and of course Pep must know of what has been going on behind closed doors. Andrés is not the only one he speaks to from the first team and it is unlikely that the others are going to be as reserved about the situation as Andrés is. Pep sighs and leans forward, not to capture Andrés’ lips in a kiss but to simply put his forehead against Andrés’, lightly stroking over his cheek.   
  
“I worry about you Andresito,” using a nickname that Xavi has called him for years, something only his closest friends use and with Pep it is something that is far more intimate then anyone else might ever know.   
  
“Pep, you know I am no longer a child anymore.”  
  
“Yes but sometimes I still feel like you need protecting even when you don’t and I know that I cannot do that.”  
  
Andérs presses his lips against Pep’s wrist and murmurs, “I will be fine, we will be fine. We are Barcelona after all.”  
  
When he looks up Pep is smiling though it is not a happy smile more of a mask really but he nods and when he leans forward this time it is to capture a kiss.   


 

+++

  
  
The news comes during a time when Andrés doesn’t know if he should be happy or worry more but suddenly the whole teams seems interested in talking about it. Save for people like Xavi or Carles, who are far more sensible then to speculate. It is them who quiets a few of the younger players and who are willing to tell people like Thierry or Sammy what sort of person Pep is like. They all know what he’s done with the youth team but even they have their concerns. They have their faith in the man but of course after this past season, no one can help but be a bit apprehensive.   
  
They manage to focus and push through the rest of their remaining games. It is the sort of season that everyone wants to end even if they love playing the game. They want to relax and to begin thinking of next season, to think of what could be instead of what has been.   
  
Andrés is not surprised when he gets the phone call. He is at home and he hears Pep on the other line, asking him if he’s willing to meet him. Andrés agrees and he notices that Pep sounded different. Not his usual self and there was not hint in his voice, instead more of a nervousness laced with it all. Andrés drives into Barcelona, parking his car in the team’s designated area and he makes his way up to what is now Pep’s office. He knocks softly before entering. He has been here before but it is strange. It has been organized to Pep’s liking, filled with photos and it is arranged differently and it hits him that this is real. That it is Pep who is their coach now.   
  
Andrés has a seat in one of the plush chairs the team has given Pep and he looks up from his computer and smiles as Andrés, the same warm and caring smile that still makes it hard for Andrés to meet Pep’s eyes sometimes. Even nearly 10 years later and he still feels a bit stupid and clumsy that even Pep looking at him like that can make him shy and unable to find his voice.   
  
“I asked you here as your coach and as your coach I want you to know what decisions I make are purely based on what you do as a player and what I see as a manager and nothing more.”  
  
Andrés nods. He…well he did expect this. Pep is looking at him with the calm, deadly look that he wore as a player and it means that he is no longer just Pep but he is Pep Guardiola and there is a difference between those two now. Pep shuffles the papers on his desk and Andrés knows it is time for him to leave. There is nothing cold between them though Andrés would like to know that Pep will not always be treating him like this but it seems now in the face of the public, in front of the team, and even here, it is a professional relationship. He starts to say something but changes his mind and heads towards the door.   
  
“Andrés, I want you to know I still care. And that more door is always open, no matter what. You know that right?”  
  
Andrés turns, one hand still on the door handle and he manages to find his voice, “of course I know Pep,” and it is as if nothing and everything will change. Something that frightens and comforts Andrés at the same time and he doesn’t know which one worries him more.   


 

+++

  
  
[](http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll239/hoppipolla7/barca/?action=view&current=foto_327889_CAS.jpg)  
  
The first day of training brings Andrés back to many years before. There is Xavi who is the first one out with him and Carles jogs over to share a new joke but it is when Gerard jogs up to join them and then there is Bojan and Thierry tagging behind him and it’s all a bit surreal. Pep of course is no longer the player that Andrés will admire and listen to diligently because that’s all he can do without feeling like he’s bound to throw up. No he will still listen to Pep but instead it is Pep who will watch Andrés, who will analyze the team and to be the one to make the important judgments.  
  
Andrés knows things cannot be judged from training alone, even if there is a new air about the team. Of course they all want to win and they want to do their best but he knows some of them wonder if Pep is the right man. He has his faith but this is because he is the one that knows Pep the best. He is the one that knows the team and will make the changes, even if some on the team don’t feel like it is the right one. Certain players are gone and while the void of that person cannot be filled, there is always someone new and someone who will bring the team together and will put the team in a new direction.   
  
The team ultimately starts to bond over the next few weeks. Preseason is about regaining full fitness but it is also about learning your new teammates. It is easy because Pep makes them all feel equal. They are all their own unique person and player but as a team they are one and they all need to be on the same level to work. Andrés knows that some of the new and younger players do not feel as if they are perhaps good enough but Andrés also knows that Pep understands this. He knows that Pep will take each one of them aside and will tell them what they need to hear, what is the truth, and what will make them go back out and realize that they are here at Barcelona for a reason.   
  
Andrés knows he is not the only one who is up in Pep’s office. He regularly calls the captains together to talk about the team or about certain players but he knows that sometimes Carles is in their and he’s seen players like Thierry or Leo wandering out. Pep keeps his door open for any player to talk and he knows that a few of the younger ones have been treated to dinner to make them feel more at home, to have a more intimate setting, to remember that Pep is a human too, even if he is their coach.   
  
It is perhaps slightly fitting that it is Andrés who spends the most time in Pep’s office. He does not interrupt Pep while he is busy but when there is a moment, even if only for a few minutes, he will use them to his advantage. He brings up his fears and concerns and Pep listens. When they are outside of football (it is rare these days, something that Andrés would not change for the world of course, seeing more of Pep is something he will not trade) they manage to talk about things other than the sport. Pep gives him words of reassurance and they are not false or words that are simply said for the sake of saying, but something that Andrés knows Pep believes. Something he says because he sees it in Andrés. No matter how many times Andrés comes to Pep, there is always something different, something that he sees in himself that needs improving and Pep will always be there, always listening, and more importantly, always advising, just like he always has been.   


 

+++

  
  
The first two games go less than smoothly. A draw and a loss and while Pep does not let them hang their heads, some of them are beating themselves up. The press of course is less than gentle and none of them dare to read the paper anymore.   
  
“We will work harder. It is a shaky start but as a team, we can do better. We will be better. I know that team wants to win this and wants to prove to everyone else that we can do this,” Andrés tells Pep. Pep isn’t angry with the team but angry with himself. He asks Andrés if he got the tactics wrong or if he made the wrong substitution but it is not up to Andrés to answer that. He tells Pep that who knows that, knows that as a manager he is the one who will be taking the blame now and while he can handle that, it will not always be easy.   
  
“Pep, you know you are doing fine. Two games down, two not so great games. We have plenty more to show what we are made of,” Andrés states matter-of-factly and Pep can only nod in agreement and look towards next weeks game, putting the others behind him.   


 

+++

  
  
[](http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll239/hoppipolla7/barca/?action=view&current=7116674039a858980ef606c07f88a90c.jpg)  
  
The team does win. The keep on winning, keep on scoring, and keep on playing beautiful football. None of them can really believe it and they don’t let it get to their heads, or at least Pep doesn’t let them do so. All it will take is one slip and it could all go horribly wrong and they know that.   
  
Injuries come at the worse time. Andrés knows as soon as it happens and he goes down, the pain searing through him. He can’t focus on what the medical staff is saying or the hands that pat him as he goes off, the only thing he can feel is the shooting pain and not even Pep’s voice can make him feel any better, not even Pep’s hands on his neck can reassure him as he hobbles down the steps, forcing the tears back.   
  
They confirm it will be weeks at the least and Andrés wishes that there is something else, that maybe it’s not as bad as first feared but he knows that is not the case. They make him stay sitting on the medical bench, ice heavily wrapped around his thigh and he throws his head back against the headrest and swears under his breath. He can hear the noise of the Camp Nou and he just wants to be back out there fighting and playing but that is not an option so he waits for the game to be over.   
  
He can eventually hear the studs scraping on the concrete floor and they all peer in, some of them giving messages of well wishes, others coming in for a hug and a quick pat to his uninjured leg and he forces a smile though he knows they mean well, they will still be playing. He gets the okay to go home as long as someone else drives and Carles offers him a ride home but he shakes his head and says he already has one. Carles simply squeezes his shoulder and heads into the dressing room. He waits for Pep and he eventually does come in, quietly closing the door behind him.   
  
“How is it,” he asks softly and Andrés wonders if he is asking as a coach now or as something else.   
  
“I’m out for a few weeks a the very least. I. I need to be playing Pep, I want to play,” the desperation in his voice. It’s not for selfish reasons, but he feels like he is letting the team down, feels as if he needs to be out there with them.   
  
“I know, but you are injured and you will not step out onto a pitch until I know you are perfectly fine. I will not risk making it worse so do not think about lying to me,” Pep says, trying to make is sound almost jokingly but his face is serious about it and Andrés knows. He would never do that, would never risk injuring himself anymore than he already is, even if he will hardly be able to stand it.   
  
“Now if I know better you need a ride home. I’ll be waiting for you when you are ready.”   
  
Andrés manages to change and gather his things. There is no one left in the dressing room now and he still needs to shower but he can do that once he is home. He just needs to rest and get off his leg as soon as he can. Pep is waiting in his office and he turns off all the lights as he closes the door behind him and leads Andres to his car. In the morning Andrés will take his but for now it is safe here and he is too tired to care anyways.   
  
Andrés cannot help but stifle back a yawn as they near his house and he feels Pep gently rest his hand over Andrés. It is not palm to palm but Pep’s hand is resting on top of his, their fingers lightly lacing and he feels Pep squeeze before letting go. It’s the most contact they’ve had in months and he can’t help but want more. It won’t happen, not tonight or anytime soon really. He is okay with that but sometimes he wishes for a moment where he can just have Pep, not Pep their coach or Pep his friend but simply just Pep for the person he is.   
  
He leaves it at that though and gathers his things as he makes his way up to his house. Sometimes you have to have a trade off in life and without a doubt, Andrés wouldn’t trade anything in his life. The injury he could do without, but everything else, he wouldn’t change for the world.   


 

+++

  
  
Even without him, the team keeps winning. Andrés goes to every game, cheers like all the fans, and waits in the lounge to congratulate the team even if he knows he’s allowed to be in the dressing room with the rest of them. Pep though, he always says the same thing every time.   
  
“I have not forgotten about you if you have not seen, we’ve survived another day without you,” and it makes Andrés embarrassed really. He knows the team can do just fine without him and this proves it. Pep makes him feel like he is the most important player though both know that is not the case. He is an important player but without the rest of the team, he’s nothing.   
  
It’s after the games and after moments like these that Andrés knows this team is something special that maybe, just maybe they can do it.   


 

+++

  
  
Sometimes things are just mean to happen. Andrés comes back and the team is still winning, still scoring goals, and still defying expectations. None of them utter what could happen in just a few short months. No one wants to jinx it, no one wants to think that far ahead. It’s week by week, day by day. They win league games, they demolish teams on their quest to the Copa del Rey, and they keep pushing in the Champions League.   
  
They have to do the usual press conferences and answer questions they don’t know the answer to or don’t care to answer. Everyone thinks they are going to win it all but none of them dare speak of that. Pep won’t let them get that idea into their head. If they start celebrating now it means the season is over and it’s not. Far from it.   
  
Everyone wants to know what Pep is like as a manager, how his trainings are, whether he will stay at the end of the season. Andrés avoids most of them or answer them all with the same routine answer. It doesn’t satisfy them but the journalist will scribble it down, will find a way to twist the words to their liking.   
  
What does Pep mean to you,” someone asks. Andrés is sort of taken aback and he has to think. Pep means a lot of things to Andrés. A friend, an inspiration, an idol, and more importantly a coach who allows him to believe in himself. He messes with the microphone before he leans forward to speak.   
  
“Pep for me, is the reason I’m in the first team. He’s been important as I’ve played with him as well as had him as coach. He was where I aimed to be when I was younger and it is a gift to know him,” he says and the shutters snap and pens work furiously against the notepads and for once, most of them are content with that answer.   


 

+++

  
  
There are many important games throughout the season. Winning against Real Madrid in the Camp Nou is a feeling that cannot be described to anyone unless they’ve been there but winning against Real Madrid in the Bernabeu is an equally inspiring feeling. It lifts them to an all new high, sends them to Stamford Bridge with the feeling that they can win in their minds.   
  
The game doesn’t start well. They fight and claw their way through the game and even at halftime, Pep still manages to give them a speech that makes them know they cannot give up, not now, not ever. They don’t dare look at the scoreboard, they don’t dare to know what minute it is. Andrés knows it was a chance shot. A lucky strike that nine times out of ten he might have missed but on that night, that night it was meant to be. When the net rippled the rest of the stadium fell silent, their hearts breaking but all he could hear were the Barca fans, their chants and shouts and he ran to them, not caring that he was being mobbed by his teammates.   
  
When the final whistle blew, none of them knew what to do. They are hugging whoever is closest and shaking hands with the opposition. Pep finds Andrés, pulling him closer and Andrés clings to him, and he’s whispering over and over, “thank you,” like he hadn’t been the one that had just scored, like he isn’t the one that needs to be thanked. Pep lets his hand brush over Andrés’ hair, a simple yet affectionate gesture and his lips brush Andrés’ ear as he whispers, “no, thank you. You have made me proud, don’t forget that.”  
  
Pep tells the media later, “Andrés deserved that goal. If it was anyone on the team, it was Andrés. He always tells me he doesn’t score enough but after tonight, I don’t think that will ever matter. He has scored the most important goal and tonight he settled his debt.”  
  
Andrés doesn’t think he’s settled his debt, in fact he’ll go on and keep trying to score more keep trying to better himself for the team and for the fans but most of all because of Pep.   
[](http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll239/hoppipolla7/barca/?action=view&current=foto_361308_CAS.jpg)  


 

+++

  
  
Another injury and yet this one is one that could prove to be vital. Andrés doesn’t know if can stomach the thought of not playing these final games. He wants to but Pep knows the most important game is in Rome. Every day is a day closer and it’s a race to be fit in time. Pep knows the team can prosper and so does Andrés but the sheer thought of him not playing is something neither of them dare to think about.   
  
They win the Copa del Rey. Pep feels the immense pride in each of his players as they gleefully lift the trophy like children on Christmas day. He of course doesn’t get caught up in the celebrations. He does get roped into being thrown in the air and he can’t keep the grin from his face. He briefly holds the trophy but it is not his to hold so he’s back to putting it in safe hands with someone else and they take off, lugging it to show off to the fans some more.   
  
Of course there is a vital person missing. He didn’t dare risk having Andrés’ injury flare up over as something as silly as him celebrating. He wants him here but if it means keeping him healthy for Rome then by all means, he will forbid him to be here. He knows that Andrés is at home probably shouting at his TV like the rest of the fans who can’t be here, his voice going out by the end of it.   
  
During the plane ride home, a phone was passed around. Everyone was talking excitedly to Andrés, fighting over who would ask him this or see if he saw that. It was Xavi who finally wrangled the phone out of Leo’s hands and handed it to Pep. There was pure silence on the other end and for a moment Pep wondered if Andrés had hung up but then he heard a faint rustling noise signaling the other man was still there.   
  
“Andrés. I trust you are taking care of yourself,” he murmured as quietly as he could. Tito was sitting next to him though he was trying to turn in his seat to speak with another member of the coaching staff and was paying no mind to Pep at the moment. Still he knew better then to say anything stupid.   
  
“I am. I feel better and I made sure not to move much during the game. I wish I was there but I will see you guys again soon enough.”  
  
“Indeed. Now go rest and we’ll be waiting for you with the trophy.” He hung up and passed the phone back to Xavi and there was a cry of, “hey, I didn’t get to talk to Andrés either,” and Pep smiled to himself and let himself be immerged in whatever conversation Tito had stuck up.   


 

+++

  
  
They were officially league champions a few days later though it wasn’t until the Osasuana game that they could finally have the trophy. They all want to keep winning of course but they couldn’t keep their minds off of what was going to happen at the end of the game, especially the players stuck in the stands. When the final whistle did blow they were all ready with their kits to lift their second trophy in four days, something they had all dreamed of. Andrés had been cleared to celebrate so he too was there celebrating with the sounds of chanting and yelling and cheering flowing down from the stands and the confetti raining down.   
  
The trophy was passed around until every hand and lips had touched it and it was placed out front along with their other one and in the back of their minds, it would not be complete until one more was sitting next to them. They were all pushed out into the limelight to give a speech and they didn’t mind, they owed it to the fans for having been there and for believing in them. Andrés can’t help but let himself thank Pep and he turns, seeing Pep standing off to the side once again, by himself and he smiles at the other man as the fans cheer.   
  
Pep of course protested to being tossed in the air but the team, they were relentless. He finally allowed them to and he cheered along with everyone else but once he was down again, it was time to allow the spotlight to be back on the players. Pep is more content to lean against the coach staff and watch as the players chant along with the crowd as they can’t keep the grins off their faces. He watches them like a father looking down at his children. He catches Andrés after the celebrations, a brief moment where he can let his fingers rest against Andrés’ skin and for a few seconds he allows himself to indulge and then Andrés is gone, off to join the team once again.   


 

+++

  
  
[](http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll239/hoppipolla7/barca/?action=view&current=imago04516451m_ampliada.jpg)  
  
If there was ever a moment in which Pep would feel the most proud of this team, the most joy for this team, it was moments before they entered the stadium in Rome. As the lights rose and the video ended, many of the players had tears in their eyes and a whole new buzz floated around the room. They were silent as they filed out, one by one like an army. If there was ever a chance to shine on the big stage, it was now.   
  
He made sure to shake hands with each player, to make sure each one knew what their place was in the team. They made their way out and no matter how many United fans filled the stadium, they could only hear theirs, hear the songs they chanted for their beloved team.   
  
Many things could be said about the game. You could talk about the goals time and time again. You could talk about how the team performed like precision and how they never let themselves look as if they were going to go easy on United. More importantly, you could talk about how the team made Pep proud, just like they always had. There was never any doubt in his mind that his team could do it. Never any doubt in his mind that this team was meant to be here, meant to win it.   
  
Andrés is subbed off but he doesn't even care. It's close enough to the end and the standing ovation he receives is more than he can ask for. He lets Pep pull him into a quick hug but the match is not over so he goes to stand next to Thierry and wait on the sidelines and prays that nothing will go wrong between now and the final whistle and presses his hands to his mouth (nothing goes wrong, it's perfect, perfect and he doesn't even hear the final whistle just knows to run and never stop.)   
  
The gold confetti cascades down and the team files off the platform so they can make their way across the pitch to give the fans a celebration. Everyone wants a piece of the trophy, even those who didn’t play tonight because they still experienced it, because they were still here. The flashes go off and even with half the stadium filing out, it sounds just as loud.   
  
Pep stands off to the side just watching, just taking it all in. He knows that the fans want to see him just as much but tonight is not his night. There is a flood of emotions as he watches the team laugh and joke, watches as they pass the trophy around for a third, fourth time. He sees Thierry coming towards him and he wants to protest but Thierry presses it into his hands and he lifts it high, showing the fans that this is their night before he’s tossing it to Victor.   
  
Later, before the team files back into the dressing room, he finds Andrés. Pep has the trophy once again and this time he’s giving it back to Andrés and he allows his hand to cup the back of Andrés’ head as he watches Andrés press his lips against the metal and the flashbulbs go off and Pep smiles, a smile of pure joy and he knows that this night belongs to them.  
[](http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll239/hoppipolla7/barca/?action=view&current=deargod-1.jpg)  


 

+++

  
  
[](http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll239/hoppipolla7/barca/?action=view&current=lewrgujlifda.jpg)  
  
There are more celebrations to be had. They all climb a top the bus and the drinks are passed around, none of them bothering to hide the bottles of champagne they share. Tonight Pep doesn’t mind, doesn’t care to be strict because they deserve it. He of course is content with his bottle of water as he makes his way around the bus. The crowd that greets them is overwhelming. Pep finds Andrés in the corner of the bus and Pep leans against the railing next to him, feeling Andrés’ arm curling around his shoulders as their heads briefly touch. They both wave to the camera and smile. Pep moves up and around Andrés, pressing against him as he leans to whisper, “Andresito, do you hear them? Those cheers are for us. Would you have believed that ten years ago? You have become the player I knew you would be. I said to remember the day they first played with you and they will, forever,” and Andrés cannot help but smile, an honest to God smile that is full of pure happiness and there is so much he wants to say to Pep but he knows he will only embarrass himself like he was back being a teenager and Pep trails his fingers over Andrés’ back and then he’s gone.   
  
The stadium looks even more beautiful then it usually does, something so utterly magical about the Camp Nou when it is dark and yet 100,000  _cules_  are making themselves heard as if the lights were on and a match was being played. It is like the previous celebrations except now, tonight, everything feels complete. The three trophies sitting in the spotlight and they could not ask for more.   
  
Pep is given the microphone after Carles and he says many things, thanks the staff, the fans, but most of all, he repeats something said seventeen years before, something that left the Catalans proud and that left them all with tears in their eyes.   
  
“Citizens of Catalunya here it is again. Visca el Barca and Visca Cataluyna.”  
  
The crown erupts. They soak up the words and the crowd chanting his name once again makes him far more emotional then he could ever imagine. This place is his home. This is where he belongs. He hands the microphone off to Victor who lightens the mood by starting the singing off and Pep presses a hand to his mouth and lets the rest of the team allow themselves to be dorks, to let their joy come out and he knows that none of them will forget this night.  
  
When Andrés steps up he cannot help but be reminded of ten years before, the shy boy who barely could get his voice above a whisper and who didn’t dare look Pep in the eyes. The team feels the need to throw him too in the air (Pep will admit he might have encouraged them), although now it’s unstable and Pep cannot help but laugh and cover his face.  
  
He doesn’t want this night to end. He never wants to stop feeling this immense joy and pride and every single other emotion that floods through him. It has to end, of course, if only for the celebrations here with the fans. Pep finds Andrés before the team will relocate somewhere else and Andrés is staring up at him, grinning and he too is unsteady but he’s happy and he allows Pep to pull him close and he relishes the touch as he is the one to speak this time, not Pep.   
  
“If ten years ago I knew I’d be here, winning these trophies and winning them with you, I would have laughed. But here we are. You are the reason we did this Pep and don’t think for a moment we aren’t grateful to have you.”  
  
Pep is speechless, for the first time there are no words to say back but it seems as if Andrés just knows and he’s still grinning the scarf slipping down to cover one of Andrés’ eyes and Pep pushes it back up and Andrés’ fingers are there, curling around Pep’s wrist and it’s a confirmation, a promise of things to come later and Pep knows that in this moment, he will never be happier. 

+++

 

 

     •  The quotes about Andres retiring them all, that Pep would be watching Andres from the stands, and that Andres deserved the goal against Chelsea all                come from Sid Lowe's article in [ The Guardian ](http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2009/may/24/andres-iniesta-champions-league-barcelona-manchester-united). It also contained the info about the framed autograph and poster.

 

  * Andres really did get lost on his first day of training and it was indeed Luis Enrique who was sent to find him. 



 

  * Pep himself wrote an [article about Andres](http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&ie=ISO-8859-1&langpair=auto%7Cen&u=http://www.elpais.com/articulo/deportes/buenos/elpepudep/20090525elpepidep_2/Tes&tbb=1&rurl=translate.google.com) in 2006. It was Pep's brother Pere who told Pep to watch Andres play in the 1999 Nike cup semifinal. It is also in that article that Pep calls Andres, "Andresito."



 

  * The [El Pais interview](http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&ie=ISO-8859-1&langpair=auto%7Cen&u=http://www.elpais.com/articulo/deportes/Quiero/siempre/quiero/elpepudep/20090525elpepidep_3/Tes&tbb=1&rurl=translate.google.com) is where Andres claims that having Pep is a gift. I've altered it to my liking.



 

  * Pep did remark that Andres reads the game better then him.



 

  * Andres really does hang out in Pep's office.



 

  * Pep is known to take the younger players out to dinner to make them feel more at hom.



 

  * It was Andres who did in fact reassure Pep after the first two games.



 

  * Pep's [inspirational video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQDFw5FuvNU) for the CL final.



 

  * In 1992, after winning the CL, Pep said to the crowd, "citizens of Cataluyna, here it is" a statement that echoed Catalan President Josep Tarradellas after he returned from exile. Pep said pretty much the same thing this past May, much to the crowds delight.



 

  * A video which [shows Pep's mentality](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DCgkiIaIqM) and something I used for the fic as a bit of reference.



 

 


End file.
